Level 1.3
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By DivineAtlasDivineAtlas (author page).
Special thanks to Alfarex for the renders!

Thank you to all the critics who helped me!
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r a t i fr a t i f
^Amazing People

Hello this is ratif I edited this page to page it betterer
Also, another thanks to Saria for allowing me to write for his Decay Canon!

I watched them teeter on the precipice of life and death; the void was beckoning them into its shivery embrace.

The poor soul laid wounded on the gurney, their ichor flowing through their ripped plaid shirt and onto the yellow fabric they were laying on. They reached out, perhaps for a deity, even a prayer. They spoke to me, naught but a whisper as their hand brushed my scrubs, a trail of blood abandoned there.

I grasped their hand as the latex of my gloves squealed against the fresh liquid. The doctor's voice echoed around me as he sutured their chest wound shut.

"It's going to be okay," I said, manifesting as much confidence as I could. I saw a weak smile curl up the corners of their lips as they closed their eyes.

"Done!" I jolted into action, pushing the gurney into The Ward. I checked their pulse and blood pressure, both of which were too low for morphine. I quickly administered a bolus of saline and watched the mortal blow striped across their chest rapidly begin to heal, the sinew gently yet efficiently knitting itself back together. Their heart rate stabilized, and the patient's ragged breathing calmed down. I took a few steps back, sliding down against the wall as I sat next to my colleagues.

The doctor laughed; I felt warm tears run down my cheeks. This person had been struck down by an uncaring entity so deeply that it was etched into their ribs. If we could save them, we could save so many others. We could help all of the poor souls that wander out of Level 0 and beyond. We could perform miracles here in these rooms. We could save lives not meant to be saved.

The healing of this person had changed everything. We finally had a real method of saving lives besides stapling them back together. Beyond saving people from certain death, this opened up the ability for major surgeries and all types of advanced care. The possibilities were endless.

Maybe we could all make it out of here alive.

SURVIVAL DIFFICULTY:

Class 0

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Description
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The diverging paths of Level 1.3.

Swathed in blinding, pristine white, Level 1.3 stands as a shining bastion amongst the shadowy corridors of the Backrooms. The level is roughly one square mile of white rooms and corridors, floored by unblemished tile made of an unknown, smooth material, which feels almost soft to the touch. The surfaces of the level cannot be sullied by grime and upon being damaged will gradually regenerate. The level proper consists of a lengthy, single hallway with branching paths to the left and right. Each path leads to one of sixteen large rooms, which contain either medical supplies and equipment or an empty area dubbed a "Detox Zone."

The level is popular among the sick and injured, as exposure to these Detox Zones will rapidly heal them. Broken bones, grievous wounds, high fevers, and even toxicosis can be cleansed quickly, especially with care from the resident health professionals. While it may seem excessive, the work the care team does only amplifies the healing, as they exercise their knowledge to set up patients for optimal recovery. Patients exposed to the Detox Zones usually leave with heightened immune systems and better overall health.

Such a location is highly coveted. As such, the M.E.G. has committed itself to maintaining the level and protecting its entry. Level 1.3 is easily accessible via Level 1 and M.E.G. operatives can provide guidance to the entrance. Everyone is welcome; however, as the level is small, the M.E.G. manages who enters to help those in need first.

The Ward


The M.E.G. has graciously established a makeshift hospital in Level 1.3. Named The Ward, the injured and seriously ill are sent here to be tended to by a team of health professionals. The Ward is stationed in all eight zones; the doctors there tirelessly assist and provide succor to those in dire need.

When exposed to the Detox Zones, most poisons and pathogens are cleaned in mere minutes, although serious and terminal illnesses can take days or even weeks to purify. Broken bones and superficial wounds heal rapidly. Because of how quick the recovery is, it is recommended that a wanderer waits for medical attention prior to entry lest the injuries and broken bones heal incorrectly. The healing process Detox Zones provide, while swift, can be difficult to endure. Many wanderers complain of burning and sharp pain up until their wounds fully finish healing. Properly set wounds or bones yield less pain. Congenital illnesses cannot be cleansed; they persist despite exposure to the Detox Zones.

Even considering the miraculous healing provided by Level 1.3, The Ward would be nothing without its team of incredible doctors. Over fifteen experts ranging from general practitioners to neurologists work tirelessly to assist wanderers as they seek recovery. The sanitizing properties of the Detox Zones enable uniquely extreme surgeries not accessible anywhere else in the Backrooms. Even the most invasive of heart surgeries can be safe procedures under the skilled hands of the medical team. To ensure optimal care, doctors are screened for their exemplary bedside manner and expertise; only the greatest are selected to provide care. The M.E.G. has scoured the Backrooms to provide only the finest equipment and physicians in order to save as many lives as possible.

Countless have been saved within the confines of the level. While The Ward handles intensive care, the smaller Detox Zones are used for those in need of acute or long-term care. Due to its serendipitous proximity to Base Alpha in Level 1, the injured and sick can quickly receive medical attention. The M.E.G. takes pride in the quality of care and exemplary behavior of their care providers.

Entrances And Exits


Level 1.3 can be accessed by no-clipping through a white wall near Base Alpha in Level 1.

One may return to Level 1 by no-clipping into either end of the main hallway.

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    WARNING

    The M.E.G. has reclassified this level as a Dead Zone. Only sanctioned operatives may enter.

    Thank you for your cooperation.

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    Several anomalies have been recorded in Level 1.3 following the appearance of what is suspected to be Decay. There have also been reports of the Detox Zones producing strange effects. As such, the M.E.G. has forbidden entry to the level until it has been properly investigated. The following is a collection of documents regarding the potential presence of Decay, collated and prepared for further use.

    The following documents contain details of blood and gore. One may read at their own risk.

    Document 1: Initial Autopsy Report by Doctor Reathe

    First of all, allow me to apologize for my horrible handwriting and the informal nature of my report. Despite all of the time I've spent in Level 1.3, I've been completely unable to heal any of the ongoing nerve damage in my wrist. Regardless, I've included the three autopsy reports that you have requested.


    To start with case 714: Mr. Stevens had no known allergens included in his case file, yet he died from extreme anaphylactic shock. His skin was coated in rashes and lesions, and the patient had scratched himself so badly that he was unrecognizable. This was likely due to the agony of the allergic reaction. This autoimmune response also attacked his internal organs. His kidneys were heavily damaged due to the extreme reaction, as was his liver and lungs. His eyes were mostly gone; he likely gouged them out himself due to the severe reaction. It appeared to be his own immune system that was the culprit, but he had no other signs of trauma.

    Case 715 was even more strange. On her skin, Miss Richards only had the scar from the hernia surgery she was recovering from. I had to open her up to figure out what was going on, and she was filled with softball-sized tumors. They were putting so much pressure on her heart that she likely suffered from tachycardia, which led to a myocardial infarction and her ultimate demise. Her file reported that she had hypercoagulability. I was expecting to see a few clots, but her blood was almost jelly. Examining the tumors revealed they were likely not malignant, but just collections of overproduced cells.

    Case 716 is the strangest of them all. Upon cursory glance, I thought someone had mutilated the corpse, but the cuts were splits in the cadaver's skin. This was a result of internal pressure and the body being chilled for the autopsy. His organs were liquified as a result of having far too much fluid in his body, likely from blood overproduction. The internal pressure fractured bones and ended his life. This is also evident in the ruptured blood vessels in his limbs and in his eyes.

    Conclusion: Each victim appeared to suffer from different issues, but there's a connection between all of them. They each had a systemic, extreme, lethal overproduction or overreaction, as if their bodies had been given instructions a hundred times as extreme as they should have been. What is going on? Perhaps these poor folks will give us a better idea of what's going on.

    Regards,

    Dr. Edward Reathe


    Document 2: Personal Log

    Nothing quite says "hey, you're expendable," like sending someone into a collapsing building or a facsimile of one. I hadn't been to Level 1.3 since I had been struck by a duller. The ensuing infection almost took my life, but the doctors there saved me. I'll never forget the sharp smell of cleaning chemicals throughout, strong enough to give you a headache.

    I was terrified. How bad could the level be to be reclassified as something uninhabitable? I personally saw some of the fucked up corpses carted out, patients who were seeking recovery but who only found death. They were mangled in bizarre ways, all impossible. There were rumors, rumors that something had corrupted the level, changed the way it healed people. Why the hell were they sending me of all people in here? Just my luck.

    There was a lot of security at the door, more so than ever. Burly men and women with menacing looking weapons. I flashed my ID and no-clipped through the white wall that led to the level. Thankfully, this was one of the gentler entrances; it was basically walking through the wall. A wash of rancid air hit my face, the humidity only adding to my discomfort. What I saw almost made me turn right around. The level was buckling under its own weight. Black spots were scattered everywhere, and the normally rigid white walls were bending and caving into the irregular spots of pure blackness.

    This was worse than a collapsing building.

    The rotten stench was certainly from the corpses that were now locked away in the crumbling corners of this forsaken place. I had read a report that only three patients had been recovered. The rest were left behind without a proper burial, rotting away into the gathering abyss. I grimaced but endured the scent, unspooling the fishing line I had been given. I carefully sidled up to the nearest pit and measured out about a yard of line. I gingerly lowered it into the hole and allowed it to dangle for a few moments.

    I yanked the plastic wire out, returning less than a foot of it to me. My heart sank into my chest; this was absolutely Decay. I tossed the rest of the line into the hole before carefully standing up.

    I don't know what it was, perhaps hubris, but my morbid curiosity took over. How did those people die? What happened to this place that had once saved my life? I walked deeper into the level, avoiding potholes and warping walls. Streaks of oxidized blood ran brown across the ground, long since dried and encrusted onto the tile floor. That was probably the most out-of-place thing here. The brown-red blood was almost jarring against the level’s perfect white and black.

    Turning left, I headed down the corridor and arrived at a well-marked section, The Ward. The beginning of the Detox Zone was marked with green tape, sectioning off the area that was once used to save my very life. Most of it was gone, a gaping abyss. I shivered as the fear started to take root in my body. Perhaps people could still be healed; perhaps they could be saved. I took my utility knife from my belt and made a small slice on my forearm. I sidled up to the green markers and pushed my hand gingerly across the threshold.

    Nothing. My fingertips tingled, but it was likely just nerves. With more confidence, I thrusted my arm deeper into the Detox Zone. A familiar burning sensation ran down my arm, my wound beginning to itch. A grin spread across my face as the cut began to scab away and heal. My smile quickly faded as the surrounding skin began to bubble and tear. The fresh, red flesh that had closed the wound began to peel back, revealing more churning meat beneath. I ripped my arm back, but it had all happened too quickly. I stumbled away in absolute shock as blood and skin dripped from my now horribly deformed limb.

    Document 3: Director's Note

    It has been several weeks since our scout returned from Level 1.3. His arm, or what was left of it, was amputated shortly after his visit. I had specifically asked him to test one of the holes and then leave, but he is young and brash. I just needed to know if it was Decay, but I foolishly underestimated just how dangerous the level had become. I didn't want to incite any more panic amongst our ranks, but now everyone has started to talk.

    Normally, we wouldn't covet a level like this, but with the Decay issue slowly spiraling, we had to protect our most important assets. Between the corpses examined by Dr. Reathe and our scout's reaction to the Detox Zone, it is clear that the level is no longer of any use to us.

    I had hoped it would have been salvageable, but we can't even no-clip into the level anymore. Except for the bloodshed, it is as if it never existed. I wonder how many worlds will be lost to the Decay.

    I fear for the people living in this strange dimension and for their futures. Existential dread continues to mount in my heart day by day. What if we can't stop this?

    Where will it end?

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